


Better the devil you know

by Capercaillie



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conspiracy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Kidnapping, M/M, Violence, cults are assholes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 18:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15936032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capercaillie/pseuds/Capercaillie
Summary: What’s the one thing Hope County needed less than a doomsday cult? TWO doomsday cults. Honestly, the only people less impressed than the Sheriff’s office are the Seed siblings themselves. After all, the enemy of my enemy is my … friend? Lower down on the list of people to kill at any rate.Silos being raided, people going missing, it’s all fairly much business as usual except for the part where neither Eden’s Gate nor the resistance are actually responsible. There’s a new group in town – taking over property, stealing stashes and just generally being assholes. No really, total assholes. They need to get gone from Hope County and it’s clear the only way this will happen is by joining forces. Reluctantly. So reluctantly.





	Better the devil you know

**Author's Note:**

> "I've heard of writers who use subtext and they're all cowards" Garth Marenghi

**Just (you do it to yourself, you do, and that’s what really hurts)**

6:14am

“For a man who purports to uphold the law, _Deputy_ , I would expect you to be better acquainted with the fact that setting my silos on fire is, in fact, arson. And a crime.”

6:15am

“And yes, to answer your unasked question, it is also a sin and when we next meet I will be taking it out on your hide.”

6:17am

“It is clear to me that helping a sinner as unrepentant as yourself will be no easy task, Deputy, but rest assured that I have the conviction to see this through. No matter how deep I need to dig to drag your sins to the surface. I can be the firm hand you need to turn to the path. And though you may resist now, rest assured that you will bend. You will submit to the power of yes. And though it will be a long, hard, _painful_ journey, you will reach atonement.”

6:18am

“Silence, Deputy? Or trying to ignore your sins? Perhaps I should point out that’s going to be a little less than effective when I can see the evidence of your wrath billowing smoke across my valley. There is no hiding from the truth of the Father. Or my men.”

6:22am

“If you’re considering adding sloth to your list of sins, fear not Deputy, we’ll address that too. No need to do anything, my men will be seeing you shortly.”

6:34am

“Need I remind you Deputy, that attempts to inspire wrath in others will not hold sway. Some of us own our sins; we confess and we are absolved. Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to walk you through the process. In. Great. Detail.”

6:47am

“Really, Deputy? _Really?_ We’re adding yet more murder to the list of transgressions? Thou shalt not kill, Deputy.”

6:49am

“And are you so lost that you insist on engaging in this wholesale slaughter? This unrelenting sacrifice of human life? Are you even vaguely acquainted with the law Deputy? Did they cover this kind of _basic instruction_ at any point before they gave you your badge and gun? What kind of education do you people receive up here?”

6:51am

“It’s clear that we will have a lot to cover, Deputy. I suggest you appreciate any unmarked areas of skin you’re particularly fond of while you still can. Covering all your transgressions will be an _extensive process._ ”

6:52am  

“For the love of Christ, can someone shut John up? Us sinners are trying to get some goddamned shut eye.”

**Karma Police (this is what you’ll get when you mess with us)**

12:20pm

Ethan Rook, junior Deputy, Snake in the Garden, Wrath Incarnate and Breaker of Seals was not having a good day. In fact, as small pieces of cultist rained down on him, he was beginning to question whether Someone Up There might in fact be trying to give him the tiniest, subtlest of hints.

Beside him, Boomer gave a vigorous shake as the dog tried to dislodge some of the assembled blood and viscera from his coat and inadvertently helped ensure a more even covering on Ethan’s left side. Ethan glanced down and met Boomer’s gaze. Boomer cocked his head to the side for a moment before unrolling his tongue to attempt to start licking his chops with the sort of enthusiasm that could only come from not thinking too carefully about the source of your food.

Reaching to his thankfully less gore-splattered right hand side, Ethan unhooked his radio and turned it on. “Hey. So it’s not that I don’t appreciate the assistance every now and then. But can you give me a heads up in future? That was a little close.”

There was a short burst of static. “Rook? What are you talking about?” It might be the static and poor radio signal, but Mary May’s voice seemed to have more than confusion underpinning her words.

Something unpleasant was sliding down the side of Ethan’s face. He determinedly wiped it away without bothering to glance at exactly what he touching and pressed down on the radio again. “I encountered some trouble on my way back from fishing. All dealt with now, but that rocket launcher came a little close. Hurk usually has better aim.” No wait, that wasn’t quite right. Ethan signed and corrected himself. “Hurk usually gives us more of a chance to escape his aim.”

“Rook, Hurk’s been down here with Sharky all morning. They’ve been cleaning up the mess they made of my bar last night.”

Huh. Ethan turned to regard the smouldering crater that was the epicentre for the splatterfest currently decorating a previously fairly picturesque corner of the Whitetail Mountains. His thoughts were interrupted by Mary May’s voice again.

“Speaking of clearing up messes, John’s gunning for you again. He’s been broadcasting his unhappiness about what you did to his silos pretty much constantly since the crack of dawn.”

Ethan blinked. Being on the other end of the radio, Mary May was unable to see the growing confusion on his face as she continued.

“I know you’re focused on chipping away at their force, but in future it might be worth considering holding off on the wholesale destruction for an hour or two? There’s a lot of folks who had to wake up to John’s Seed personal brand of unhinged and that’s not something anyone should have to deal with before seven.”

Ethan looked down at the radio and then at Boomer. “What the hell am I supposed to have done to the silos?” he asked.

Boomer nuzzled into Ethan’s empty hand and began to lick at the blood splattered on it. Ethan sighed.

Not a good day.

**Creep (what the hell am I doing here)**

1:07pm

Ethan was aware that certain social standards might have become a bit more relaxed since Hope County turned into a not-so-metaphorical warzone. That said, ambling into the nearest general shop to sell the fish he’d managed to acquire while also resembling an extra from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre was never going to go down well. Even in Whitetail Mountains. So stopping off at the ranger station on the way for a quick shower and change of clothes seemed like an obvious choice.

The facilities weren’t great and hot water was more a suggestion of past warmth than anything that could muster up some steam, but it was still a lot better than a quick dunk in the river. Ethan did his best to scrub the gore and splatter from his hair and skin before emerging to pull on an abandoned t-shirt and his jeans. He was tugging his gloves back on before he realised the crackling hissing noise was his radio and not the straining plumbing system.

Moving closer to his bag, Ethan bit back a curse as the static-broken voice became more recognisable as Jacob Seed. Because that’s all his day needed.

“…fail. And you might think you’re raising an army against us, Deputy, but you’re children playing at soldiers. And while your pathetic militia have been preparing to cower from what awaits, we’ve prepared for war. So by all means eliminate my judges – we both know who will be victorious.”

Okay, so apparently his day hadn’t finished taking a turn into the weird. Ethan scrubbed his hand over his face, pushing his still damp hair back off his forehead as he tried to think of some sort of explanation. As that failed, he tucked the radio away and stepped outside.

There were a couple of Whitetail militia over by the motor pool, working on a truck that had clearly seen better days. The one on the right, an older man with a beard almost worthy of comparison with Eli’s, nudged his companion at Ethan’s approach. The other man, who had been all but climbing into the engine of the truck straightened and nodded at Ethan in greeting. “Afternoon Deputy.”

Ethan nodded back at them. “You guys been pissing off Jacob more than usual, it seems,” he commented.

The younger of the two leaned back against the truck, wiping at his hands as he frowned. “Oh?”

Ethan gestured at the radio slung by his hip as he folded his arms loosely across his chest. “Caught some threats directed our way about those damn wolves of his.”

The two men exchanged a look. “That man’s obsession with those damn beasts ain’t right. And I’m saying that even in light of the weird shit he’s been pulling with our men.” The older man said. “And what’s with cutting off their tails? I swear half of what he does is just one of those trippy mind games of his.”

“We’ve had a bunch more men go missing lately,” the younger chipped in. “No doubt dragged off to that fucking brainwashing centre of his. Not that we found them when we raided the place. Who knows what that sick fucker did to them – I hear he feeds them to those fucking wolves.”

Great. Exactly the sort of thing Ethan had been hoping to be reminded of, especially with Pratt still held prisoner. Ethan shifted his weight, using the movement to cover for the moment he needed to swallow back the trauma. He cleared his throat. “According to what I heard, someone’s been taking them out.”

No sign of recognition on either of the men’s faces. The older gave Ethan a measuring look. “I heard there was some activity over by Elk Jaw Lodge earlier,” he said at last. “Truth be told, I thought you were behind it, Deputy.”

Him and Jacob both. Maybe the pronouncements from various Seed family members were loosening people’s grip on reality to the point where he was capable of this level of unassisted destruction. Ethan didn’t know whether to feel flattered or framed. He made a grunt of what could have been acknowledgement as he turned to consider his transport options. Things were just a little too out of whack here in Whitetail Mountains and maybe a change of scene would help it all make sense. “That seems to be the popular consensus,” he agreed.

The younger militia man grinned. “Well you know what they say, Deputy. No rest for the wicked.”

Ethan fixed him with a look.

Seriously. This was not his fucking day.

**Burn the witch (this is a round up, this is a low flying panic attack)**

3.20pm

Ethan had barely rolled his newly liberated Peggie truck into Holland Valley before his radio crackled into life again. His fingers involuntarily clenched around the wheel at the burst of static.

He was really starting to hate that thing.

Another burst of static. “Rook? Hey man, please tell me that it’s you sat in the cockpit of Carmina. And you just didn’t get around to asking before you borrowed her.”

Seriously. This sort of unrelenting shit was the sort of thing that gave people Ideas about being singled out for special treatment by the fates. This could very well be how you ended up with lunatics like Joseph Seed.

Pulling over to the side of the road, Ethan grabbed for his radio. “Hey Nick. Still firmly with my feet on the ground here. I’m on my way over.”

“Aw fuck, was really hoping you weren’t going to say that.”

There wasn’t really much Ethan could say to that. He reached to drop the radio back on the passenger seat when he heard the explosion. Looking through the windshield, he saw black smoke rising above the treeline. Given what was located in that particular direction, there were only so many candidates. Ethan reached for the radio again. “Uh, Nick? You aren’t already engaged in some tit for tat retaliation over at the Seed Ranch, are you?”

“You mean that wasn’t you?”

Ah shit. “I’ll be with you in a minute. Keep your guard up. There’s something new going on.”

Focused as he was on reaching Rye’s Aviation in the shortest possible time, it didn’t really dawn on Ethan how quiet the roads were until he was pulling up outside Nick’s. The man lowered the rifle he held as Ethan stumbled out from the truck.

“Rook. Had a moment thinking you were one of John Seed’s here to accuse me of whatever’s happening over at his ranch.” Nick nodded at the stolen Peggie truck. “That said, that’s the first Peggie vehicle I’ve seen for a while.”

Ethan frowned. “I’ve not run in to any since this morning in the Whitetails.” Nothing about this realisation was reassuring. “What the fuck are they up to?”

 Nick shrugged. “Given that amount of smoke? Either burning their fuel reserves or all their damn airplanes. Maybe they’ve moved up the date of The End of Days and don’t want anyone making use of their stuff while they’re living their best bunker life.”

“Without telling anyone?” Ethan queried. Because maybe it was just him, but the Seeds seemed very into Oversharing. This sort of development wouldn’t be the sort of thing they’d let slide without some creepy entreaties or last minute conversion spree.

Nick shrugged, he opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Kim emerging from the house as quickly as a heavily pregnant woman could. “Boys, you better get in here,” she said firmly. “There’s a new broadcast and you need to see this.”

Ethan and Nick shared a glance before heading in to see what latest pronouncements John Seed intended to make. :etting Nick go first, Ethan spared a last look at the black smoke before following the man into the house where Kim stood in front of the flickering tv screen. There was a figure taking up most of the space on the screen, addressing the audience directly through the camera.

It wasn’t John Seed.

Sat behind a desk in what appeared to be a room in Seed Ranch, a severe looking white man in a pristine white shirt, stared reproachfully at the camera. To either side, an equally unimpressed man stood at something approximating attention.

“Hope County has been led astray. You have allowed yourselves to be swayed by false prophets, to disregard the teachings of the Bible. We are here to correct that before the Collapse comes to pass. There is no place for those who have sinned in Paradise. And there is no place for you here. You have been measured and found wanting.”

Beside him, Ethan heard Nick let out a small groan.

On the screen, the man continued. “And to that false prophet in chief, I have this to say. You should have spent more time considering your faith. ‘I am my brother’s keeper.’ Well, now it seems that I am. And let me assure you that unlike some I will not turn a blind eye to the transgressions of those in positions of power. You’ll be hearing from us in due course on the arrangements for your departure from Hope County.”

The screen went blank as the broadcast cut off. In the Rye Household, there was a moment of silence. Then Ethan sighed.

Seriously. Fuck his day to hell and back.


End file.
